


I Can Play Tricks and Be So Damn Wicked

by LemonChomps (orphan_account)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Character Death, Gen, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Holy Water, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 03:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19760092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LemonChomps
Summary: heya, come follow me on Tumblr!! I don't bite come talk to me! @lemonchomps





	I Can Play Tricks and Be So Damn Wicked

**Author's Note:**

> heya, come follow me on Tumblr!! I don't bite come talk to me! @lemonchomps

Crowley smiled at the angel sitting across from him, they had both returned to Crowley’s flat after dining at The Ritz. The angel had brought out a perfectly aged bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon which had been saved for a special occasion. And, he supposed, tricking Heaven and Hell into leaving the both of them alone certainly did count as one. Crowley didn’t ask where he had gotten it, he didn’t particularly care not after the day that they had. He had poured each of them an unhealthy amount, not that they didn’t deserve it, especially after them succeeding in averting the apocalypse.

The demon held the wine glass in front of him before taking a sip from the liquid. It burned slightly on the way down his throat, not in a positive way like exceptionally aged wine, but he shrugged it off before taking another sip. For the first time in all of the millennium that he had been stationed on earth, he felt like it was the first time he could truly relax. He continued to lounge on the couch while Aziraphale still sat prim and proper on the armchair across from him.

“Say Aziraphale, why’s this wine taste different than usual?” Crowley asked, his words already slurring slightly, which was unusual as it usually took a full glass for his speech started to blur together.

“Might be because it’s a wine that we’ve never tried before,” Aziraphale said with a lazy smile adorning his face.

The demon looked at the angel with confusion dominating his expression, he could have sworn that they had drunk this wine before. The thought left his mind as an uncomfortable feeling settled over his stomach, and he reaches down to lay a hand lightly over where the sensation was blooming.

Red wine had always given Crowley a distinctly warm and heady feeling, but the feeling he had gotten from this glass was different, unpleasant. Instead of a warm feeling, the demon felt like his insides were on a gentle simmer, which was in itself unusual, but he brushed it off as it is a side-effect of seeing Satan earlier. It had been known that lesser demon had combusted after coming within the general vicinity of the fallen angel.

As he downed the rest of the wine from his glass Aziraphale already had the bottle in his hand and was pouring Crowley another glass full. The demon flashed him a warm smile and made a toasting motion with his drink, which the angel returned. Crowley let out a small grunt of pain as the simmering pain turned into a low burn. Crowley waved his hand dismissively at Aziraphale’s worried look.

The angel refilled both of their glasses several times until the bottle only had a few drops left. Throughout the night, Crowley had gotten used to the taste of the wine, and the slight burning pain that accompanied it. It had been nearly four hours after the two of them had started drinking when the low burn in his stomach exploded to a sharp, biting pain throughout his torso. Crowley gasped and let out a high-pitched cry as curled in on himself while he clutched his stomach, his lack of balance causing the demon to roll off the couch and land on his hands and knees on the floor. The movement caused the empty bottle and Crowley’s half-full glass to tip over on the glass table, the wine spilling out over the edge and the liquid falling onto the carpet and staining it.

The demon was using one of his hands to clutch his stomach while the other supported his weight. Crowley teared up as deep, wet coughs racked his body and nearly choked as something came up his throat, he coughed as it the thick, syrupy substance fell from his mouth and onto the ground. Crowley stared at the red liquid on the ground blankly before piecing together that it was in fact blood that he had just coughed out.

The demon looked towards Aziraphale with an expression of fear, the angel was sitting cross-legged and glowering down at the demon as if this was the most normal thing in the universe. Crowley had a sinking feeling in his stomach along with the intense burning pain, the expression of the angel’s face had given him metaphorical chills.

“Angel…help me.” Crowley rasped as he collapsed on to the floor.

“No… I don’t think that I will.” Aziraphale responded in a mocking tone after a few seconds of silence,

Crowley stared at the angel in disbelief as tremors racked his body, his glasses had slid down his face when the demon had fallen off the couch. Aziraphale chuckled maliciously before he got up from his seated position and came around the table so that he stood in front of the coiled demon. He crouched down in front of him and haphazardly snatched the glasses off of the demon’s face and examined them with an indifferent stare. The angel tossed them away from Crowley, where he wouldn’t be able to reach them unless he moved, which right now was impossible. Crowley looked at Aziraphale with golden eyes, the gold has taken over the entirety of the organ, leaving no white to be found.   
“Ngh.” The demon groaned and tightened his grip on his stomach, even more, he lay on his side knees to his chest and arms around himself, a painful grimace on his face.

Crowley coughed a few more times, and more blood came out with each one, he looked over at the angel with glossed over eyes and felt tears well in them as he saw the wicked smile decorating Aziraphale’s face. In a vain attempt at fleeing Crowley managed to support himself using his arms and managed to do a mix of a slide and shuffle for a few seconds before collapsing again. The angel let out a single bark of laughter at Crowley’s vain attempt at escape before he pulled a jar out of his coat pocket. 

The angel held it up between two fingers so that Crowley could see, inside the half-full vial was a clear liquid. Crowley stared up at the small vial while Aziraphale looked down on the demon with a blasé expression. Crowley had a sour taste in his mouth as he saw the vial, he had a feeling he knew what was being held in it, but he hoped that it wasn’t true. 

“It’s holy water, Crowley, came straight from Heaven, they said to give you the entire thing, but I wanted to watch you die, watch you realize that you’re never coming back.” The angel said haughtily.

Crowley’s tear-filled eyes squinted as an intense light appeared behind Aziraphale, they widened though as he saw two of the Archangels standing behind his angel. Uriel cleared their throat and stepped forward, looking at Crowley as if he was nothing more than trash, which to an archangel a demon was. He looked back to Aziraphale with a pleading look, but the expression melted off as he saw the angel’s ice blue eyes change into a violet. He knew now that whoever he had been sharing wine with wasn’t his angel.

“You’re…you’re not Aziraphale,” Crowley growled.

The angel that was supposed to be Aziraphale looked at Crowley in shock, obviously not expecting the demon to have been coherent enough to notice the change in looks. The imposter didn’t seem to care, though because they flashed the demon a smile that he recognized, from when he had gone to Heaven once again.

“Gabriel.” Crowley rasped.

“Correct.” The archangel said in an overly cheery tone, his form melting back into the one Crowley had seen in Heaven.

Crowley yelled as the pain increased tenfold, his back arched off of the floor and he stared at the archangels through hooded eyelids. The demon looked down at his abdomen when he felt something wet on his hand, he winced as he pulled his hand away to see that it was drenched in blood. He looked to where his hand had been covering and found that there were several holes in his stomach where the holy water had managed to melt through the flesh.

“You truly thought that we didn’t know that the two of you had switched bodies?” Gabriel taunted.

The demon looked between all of the angels, his eyes landing on Michael and staying there, he felt the feeling of betrayal once again as he kept looking at Michael. He felt his eyesight going blurry, and his head suddenly hit the floor as he couldn’t find the strength to keep it up anymore. He can’t even look toward the angels anymore, his head laying in a way so that it’s facing the door. Crowley barely registers the loud noise of the door hitting the wall as it is shoved open, but he does manage to notice that an angel, his angel, stands there.

The celestial power of an absolutely livid principality hits the Archangels at full-force, making them stumble backward a few feet. Aziraphale immediately focused on Crowley who was still laying on the ground, his state worse than ever, he could no longer talk only make weak sounds to express his pain. The angel rushes over to the demon and grasps at him, Crowley smiles weakly as his head is pulled into Aziraphale’s lap. There is still blood flowing in small rivulets from his mouth, the liquid forming a small stain on Aziraphale’s pants.

“No, no, no, no,” Aziraphale repeats desperately as he looks down at his demon’s face, which is rapidly becoming paler.

“Angel…” Crowley whispered before he felt himself relax everything unconsciously in his body go loose, his vision became blurry, and the dark which had only been at the edges overtook the entirety of his vision. He could pinpoint the exact moment when he was no longer there, and he was gone.  
Aziraphale stared down at Crowley who’s eyes where half-open but lifeless, the angel looked up at the archangels with fury burning in his eyes. He made sure to gently lay Crowley’s ravaged body on the floor before standing while maintaining a feral glint in his eye. The principality made no sound as his sword appeared in his hand, he had always been able to recall his sword but saw no reason to do so before now. His wings appeared from behind his back and divine light radiated from his eyes. All three archangels for the first time showcased an emotion other than indifference, this one was pure, unadulterated fear.

“You forget… I’m a fucking principality. I outrank every single one of you, so you leave me alone and do not interfere ever again, and I might not kill you bastards on the fucking spot.” Aziraphale stated, his voice having the rough qualities of when speaking Enochian.

Without a word, all three of the archangels were gone, not even risking leaving a single feather behind. Aziraphale dropped his sword on to the floor with a clatter, and he crouched down beside the demon once again, and tears welled in his eyes. He scanned his eyes over the body, and they lingered at the holes in the demon’s stomach where it looked like the skin had been melted. He looked back to the demon’s lifeless eyes and felt the warm tears roll down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, Crowley.” The principality whispered.


End file.
